Ain't That A Kick In The Head
by Jojo6
Summary: S/J. S6 *no spoilers*. Cassie has a talent.


Title: Ain't That a Kick in the Head 

Author: Jojo 

Email: randomleaves@yahoo.co.uk 

Rating: PG 

Summary: Cassie has a talent. 

Disclaimer: Not mine! 

Archive: SJD please. 

A/N: Thanks to Melly who came up with the basic idea and the title and even found time to beta it. Good grief. An all round genius. 

Sam outfit and makeup based on the photo taken by Chris Judge that was on his web-site... 

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"Ow!" Jesus Christ, Sam thought, covering her eye protectively as a sting of pain shot straight through her brain and vibrated there. "God, Cassie!" 

Cassie, holding her weapon away from Sam's face, took on an expression of extreme weariness. "Sam, will you get a grip?" 

"You nearly took my eye out!" 

"I did no such thing. Now, stop being such a baby and take your hand away from your eye." 

"You really don't have Janet's bedside manner," Sam muttered mutinously, reluctantly pulling her hand away from her now-watering eye and sniffing. 

Efficiently, Cassie pulled out some tissues from the box she had precipitously placed there earlier on and dabbed at Sam's eye. "You're making the mascara run." 

"That's why I don't wear it." 

"Oh? Do you spontaneously burst into tears throughout the day?" 

"This teenage sarcasm thing is getting *so* old." 

Cassie snorted. "Oh, please. It never gets old. Now hold still." 

Since Sam hadn't taken Cassie at her word the last time she'd told her to 'hold still', and that hadn't ended up too well for her, Sam froze in position, eyes wide like a startled rabbit. 

The teenager's face trembled. "God, Sam, you look... I'm not gonna *shoot* you for God's sake.. Calm down. Take a deep breath." 

Spending the day with Cassie had really not been a good idea. Or rather, it had sounded like a good idea - Janet had, in fact, advertised the whole deal really, really well, with deceptive enthusiasm and positive adjectives - but in actuality it was probably the most dangerous day Sam had ever spent with a teenager. 

Next time this happened, Sam was going to refuse to aid Janet in her plans to put as many barriers between Cassie and her latest ('horridly inappropriate') boyfriend. And if that didn't work - which, knowing Janet's apparently limitless persuasive expertise, was entirely possible - Sam was going to suggest that Cassie came over to her house for the girlie bonding day rather than the other way around. 

And there would be no make-up, hair dye or any other hellish hair things involved. 

"Okay, I'm going to have to take off the eye makeup and start again. Wait here while I go get some cotton balls." Cassie unfolded herself from the couch and made a run for the stairs, leaving Sam alone in the living room. 

Sam eyed the front door. "Guess I could make a run for it now." 

No, no, that would be cowardly. 

Besides, she'd had to leave wearing what she was wearing. There wouldn't be time to find a coat that fitted her and covered the thing Cassie had leant her - hysterically, it was the only top Cassie had in her wardrobe that was 'big' enough for Sam. Apparently, Cassie considered anything that nearly covered her bellybutton 'big'. So, naturally, the top Cassie had supplied for her aunt after the disaster with the hair-dye, came about midway down Sam's stomach, nowhere near her own bellybutton. 

There was no way in hell Sam was going outside dressed like that. The moment Cassie finished with *whatever* she was doing to her face, Sam was gonna run like a madwoman into Janet's room, find something - anything - to drag over her head. Then, when Janet returned from her 'date' - "It's not a date, Sam. Just because he's a guy and we're having dinner and we occasionally have very long, romantic phone ca... yeah, it's a date. Happy now? I was trying to be sensitive" - Sam was going to escape in her car and probably finish off the day eating a whole tub of ice cream. 

Being the 'cool' parent was hard work. 

"I'm back," Cassie announced, jumping down the last two stairs and running over to the couch. She dabbed a healthy does of eye make-up remover cream onto a cotton ball and, without warning, jabbed it into Sam's eye. 

"Yooowwwww!" 

"Oh shut *up*." 

Five minutes later, when Sam's eyes had stopped streaming, her nose had stopped running and she was no longer seeing oily spots when she blinked, Cassie started again. 

This time, Sam remained immaculately still - determined that she would come out of Cassie's ministrations with minimal wounding. The way things were going, she was gonna turn up at work with a black eye and the truthful explanation would be hell on her reputation. 

"So," Cassie began, chattily, as she did something to Sam's lower eyelid with a black kohl eyeliner, "how's cutie?" 

Flushing, Sam decided to play the innocent. She focussed on a pimple on Cassie's hairline - boy, she was really glad she had left that phase behind. "Who's 'cutie'?" 

"Jonas, of course!" 

Hurt on the Colonel's behalf - okay, okay, and Teal'c's behalf too - Sam frowned depressingly. "He's not that good looking." 

"Did you *not* see him in that T-shirt the other day?" 

"I see him in a T-shirt most days, actually." 

"Don't remind me," Cassie said, sighing dramatically. "You know Melly and Kate?" 

Vaguely recalling that these two were Cassie's best friends, Sam 'mmm'd. Melly, as far as she knew, was the crazy one who had about four younger brothers and sisters and always turned up at the Fraisers when things got a little too much. Kate was the one with the really, really red hair. She was the one who had suggested the horrible brand of hair dye to Cassie - the hair dye that was all down Sam's nice, new pink shirt. 

"I swear they only visit me now just in case Jonas is around." 

"I'm sure he'd be thrilled to know that. And Lieutenant Rush. His girlfriend." 

Cassie gasped and sat back. "No way!" 

"Yes way." 

"Crap! I'll have to call them." Cassie made a move for the phone almost immediately, then stopped. She turned back and eyed Sam warily. "How long have they been dating?" 

Damn. "Uh... well, they've been on one date..." 

"That's not dating!" Immensely relieved, Cassie came back to Sam, this time picking up a black mascara and pulling out the wand. "Jeez, you had me worried there." 

"Cassie, you can't be serious. He's at least fifteen years older than you." 

"So?" 

Sam's eyes were watching the wand carefully, remembering the last time when it had all but blinded her. "Cassie, you're.. you're... you're still a teenager." 

Patiently, Cassie smiled at Sam. "Sam, when I'm twenty-two, he'll be in his thirties. Does that sound so bad?" 

Since Sam mentally played the age game on a regular basis, she was in no position to argue. But still... Jonas? "He's an alien." 

Cassie blinked at Sam. 

"Ok-aaay." She raised a finger in agreement. "Not the best argument I've ever used." 

"Open your eyes wide and blink," Cassie ordered, holding the wand between Sam's left eyelashes. "This is going to look so cool, Sam." 

Yeah. Sure. The last time she'd worn this much make-up, she'd been sixteen and had been at a sleep-over. She'd had no intention of leaving her friend's house wearing the stuff, though. Not that she had any intention of doing so today. As soon as Janet got home in - oh, two hours - Sam was going to make a quick detour to the bathroom and 'accidentally' splash her face with water. 

"You know," Cassie said, sitting back and admiring her work. "Mom has this really great new tinted lip gloss. Stay right there." 

She shot off upstairs again. 

"I'll... do that." 

Sighing, Sam looked over towards the kitchen. She could see a packet of cookies sitting on top of the fridge that were all but calling her name. They were saying _'Sam.... eat us.... eat us.... Sam, we're full of chocolatey goodness.... eat.... us'._

Jerking back from her rather elaborate daydream, Sam gave her head a good shake. She read the back of the nail polish remover, trying to see if it had hallucinogenic properties. She didn't usually imagine cookies calling her name. Maybe she could put it down to the number of times the nail polish remover had been used on her fingernails and toes that day. She'd been all sorts of different colors - bright pink, blue, green, black, silver - until Cassie settled on 'Innocent'. 

Which basically translated as 'clear'. 

Sam sighed. 

Cassie reappeared, brandishing something. "Look, isn't it nice? She won't let me borrow it - she always hides it behind her birth control pills because she thinks I'll be too embarrassed to look further," she said with some smugness as she dropped down onto the couch and pulled the wand out of the tube with a wet 'pop'. 

"Uh... Cassie..." Yes, Sam realized her tone was distinctly nervous. And she was cool with that. "That doesn't look like a 'tint' to me." 

'Tint' suggested pale, slightly pink glossy. Translucent colors. Basically, lip balm with a little bit of a shade. 

Not, you know, actual *color*. 

"Did I say you had any choice in the matter?" Cassie demanded in a tone that clearly said who was in charge. 

Okay, Sam thought, maybe Cassie took after her mother more than she'd previously thought. 

"Pucker up, Sammie." 

"What did I tell about.... ugh! Ya gah it on ma tong!" 

Cassie rolled her eyes. "Put your tongue back in your mouth and deal with it." 

Sam nearly pouted. The lip gloss was thick and sticky and entirely revolting. It did smell, however, faintly of vanilla which was kinda nice. She smacked her lips together and pouted experimentally, trying to see the color of her lips by looking down. But that made her feel kinda dizzy so she stopped. "Can I look in the mirror yet?" she asked, tentatively. 

"No!" 

Sam did pout. And, judging from the grin on Cassie's face, it was an impressive look. "Aren't we finished yet?" 

"I want to do your hair." 

Thinking of the red hair dye that had made its way, thankfully, into the trash can, Sam winced. "Again?" 

"No. I'm just going to shape it some." Grabbing a couple of pots from the table, Cassie climbed off the couch and went to stand behind Sam. "I saw this really cool hairstyle in Vogue recently... 

Sam blanched. _*Vogue?*_

Oh God, she was gonna *kill* Janet. 

Gritting her teeth, she waited patiently while Cassie palmed something that smelled like coconut into her hair and started moving it around with her fingers. She really hoped this make-up and hair phase was just that - a phase. She didn't think she could cope with this on a regular basis. At least Janet was scary and could frighten off any attempts from Cassie to inflict her endless supply of makeup on her. Unfortunately, where Cassie was concerned, Sam was pretty much a pushover. 

She really hoped the Colonel never found out. 

"Done!" Cassie announced, just as the doorbell rang. "Damn. Would you get that?" 

"Cassie! I'm wearing... I'm all...!" Sam spluttered. 

"Sam, I have hair goop all over my hands," Cassie pointed out, holding her hands away from her body like they were diseased. 

Opening and closing her mouth like a fish, Sam looked from Cassie's gooped-up hands down at her own borrowed top. "Man, this is so embarrassing," Sam muttered, climbing off the couch and walking over to the door. Who could it be? Sam thought, logically. It wasn't like it was going to be anyone she knew. She'd just act like she *wanted* to look like this. 

She pulled open the door, one hand on her hip, expression perfectly serene. 

Shit. 

Cassie bounded to the door, wiping her hands on a cloth. "Jack!" she exclaimed exuberantly, gazing upon the visitor with excitement. "What are you doing here?" 

Colonel O'Neill stared at Sam. Really stared at Sam. His eyes went up, down, up, down, middle, up, down, middle. And then up again. 

He opened his mouth. 

"Jack?" Cassie prompted, smiling slightly. "What are you doing here?" 

He blew out a breath. "I have absolutely no idea," he said breathlessly, his eyes alternatively being dragged back from Sam's midriff to her face. "I think... I think I'll... go. Yeah. That's what I'll do. I'll... go." 

And, turning around, he walked off down the drive. 

"Well, that was weird," Cassie whispered as they watched the Colonel walk off. 

Sam cleared her throat. "Yeah," she squeaked. She clapped a hand over her chest and patted, cleared her throat again. "Yeah, it was." 

"Particularly since he's walked off, leaving his truck at the base of our drive," Cassie added. "Why don't you go after him?" 

Sam looked at Cassie. "Cassie, do I look nice?" she asked bluntly. 

Cassie beamed proudly. "Yeah. Actually. You look gorgeous." 

Hmm, Sam thought. 

"In that case, if you'll pass me my socks and boots, I think I will go after him." 

"Want a coat?" 

"No. No, I don't think I do." 


End file.
